


Matchwork Drabble Collection

by Cesare



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Drabble Collection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-03
Updated: 2010-09-03
Packaged: 2017-10-11 10:32:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/111471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cesare/pseuds/Cesare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a collection of drabbles written during <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/mcshep_match/">McShep Match</a> 2010 for <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/mcshep_match/tag/team%20work">Team Work</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Matchwork Drabble Collection

Rodney tossed his spanner aside. He gave up. There were some stones even Rodney McKay couldn't get blood from; no matter how much ingenuity and expertise he brought to bear, this device was too dead to salvage.

The ATA guy-- Shetterly?-- strolled into the lab. "Dr. Weir said you wanted me to help you with some testing."

"Over there," Rodney gestured.

The guy ignored him. "What's this?" he asked, leaning on the device and peering into the open panel.

It lit up.

Rodney narrowed his eyes. "Oh, I can tell already-- you and I are _not_ going to get along."

*

Rodney got down on one knee, inspecting the Ancient console. "I could fix this in five minutes if we had the jumper."

"It's too big a risk to bring a jumper on every mission," said John.

"We're already risking the military commander and head of science on every mission! What's a jumper compared to that?"

"You just don't want to walk from the gate."

"In 90 degree weather, imagine that!"

"Your servants certainly enjoy vigorous debate," said the Yoman ambassador, passing Teyla another canape. "You allow them a great deal of freedom."

Teyla smiled. "It keeps them out of trouble."

*

In every new crop of scientists off the Daedalus, at least one always develops a massive crush on Dr. McKay. No one ever tells McKay; it's more fun to watch him steamroller cluelessly by.

"Smarties, Dr. McKay?" asks the latest smitten suitor.

McKay snatches them. "Thanks. But don't expect any special favors," Rodney huffs. Radek and Simpson stifle giggles, only laughing more as Sheppard arrives.

"Hey, candy," he says. "Where'd this come from?"

McKay waves absently. "Whatsis over there."

"Isn't that nice," Sheppard glares.

Radek settles in. The only thing more fun to watch than oblivious McKay is jealous Sheppard.

*

"--and an absolutely killer, monster rack."

"Seriously?"

"It's incredible."

Rodney glared at the backs of the two scientists. "Are you talking about Teyla?"

They jumped at the sound of his voice. "Yes!" said one as the other answered "No!"

"You'd better not be," said Rodney. "Because I'm putting you both on the list for offworld team consideration. You'll be taking hand-to-hand training, starting tomorrow."

"Yes, Dr. McKay," they agreed, cowed.

"Think next time before you start making personal remarks," Rodney added.

Though he had to admit they were right; the gendershifting device had given him an amazing rack.

*

"Sorry, your name's what again?" says the foreign visitor. He suddenly seems wary; his two companions subtly close ranks around the palest of the four.

"Acustus Koyla," Acustus answers, bewildered. "This world is Keorna. We seldom travel through our Water-door, but we welcome you. I come from the nation of Takay with a greeting of peace."

"So... you don't know anyone named Acastus Kolya?" asks the visitor. "Not a relative of yours?"

"No," says Acustus. "It sounds similar to mine, but I've never heard that name."

The four relax. "In that case," says the visitor, "nice to meet you."

*

"Stupid Ancients! This is really getting out of hand!" Rodney shouted. It came out as a twittering warble.

John flicked his ears, looking over with keen interest.

"You realized how backward this is?" Rodney chirped. "I should be the cat! You should be the one with wings!"

The very tip of John's tail twitched as he lined himself up to pounce.

"Hey! I didn't mean you should be the one with _my_ wings!" Rodney sang in alarm, stretching out his arms-- wings-- and testing them against the air. He flapped frantically out of reach just as John jumped for him.

*

Rodney stirs from dreams, calling, "John!" It's always the first word on his lips.

"I'm here," John says, "right here, Rodney," holding him.

In the labs, Rodney hesitates over schematics.

"You remember," John encourages. "It's all coming back. You're brilliant."

"I think... we need more shielding," says Rodney, "This isn't safe."

"Ladon will fix it," John promises. "Just keep going for now."

That night, Rodney's fingers restlessly search John's neck, his forearm. The skin is smooth.

"Sh," John soothes, his blue eyes bright in the lamplight. He draws Rodney close. "It's all right," he says. "I'm with you. You're loved."

*

"This probably has kerosene in it," Rodney ransacks the shed frantically. "And a-- long digging tool, that should be useful."

"I will take that," Teyla grabs the handle.

"Knives," Ronon finds a bucketful of tools.

John says, "Those look like trowels."

"They'll be knives in a minute." Ronon produces his laser whetter.

"Pipes," John contributes. Rodney snags them, and fertilizer.

An overripe hand thrusts through the wall; Teyla stabs through the gap, puncturing a rotten skullful of pulsing brain gunk.

The only thing worse than being trapped by zombies, John reflects, is being trapped by zombies on an alien planet.

*

When four strangers come to the village, Doenay declares them welcome. She permits them to walk the path of the Ancestors; faithful disciples guard her as she observes the four.

She sees their hearts easily. "A bond of agape joins you all," she tells their leader. "And between you and that one," she gestures to their learned fellow, "eros." At his tension, she reassures, "The Ancestors approve; you should pledge troth."

"No offense," says he, watching the learned one, "but you're nine."

"I am Doenay," she says. "If I am wrong, deny it."

The stranger sighs. "You got me there."

*

If John were just a little more self-disciplined, he'd let it go. He wouldn't think of it, he wouldn't dream of it, he'd put it out of his head.

It was such a small thing.

It was just Rodney, reacting to the planet of the day's greeting libation-- it wasn't even alcoholic. It was just Rodney standing, then staggering, the drink affecting him.

It was just how John caught him so naturally, and how easily Rodney let himself be caught.

It was just that Rodney relaxed and held onto him, body to body, for breath after breath.

Nothing much.

*

"Jeannie, you already got a new car out of me," Mer grouched. "What do you want from me, blood?"

"I just want the truth, Mer!" said Jeannie. "This is the second relationship you told me was serious, and once again, it ends right before you say you're going to make a commitment! Is there something else?"

"Like what?"

"Like John," Jeannie answered.

Mer reddened and charged out of the room.

Jeannie rubbed her temples. She shouldn't have pushed him; since his miserable high school years, Mer had been tightly closeted.

But later, over a half-empty scotch, he admitted, "Maybe."

*

Nobody said it aloud, but when John met Nancy, he was made to understand she was the perfect choice for an ambitious young officer. She had it all: looks, connections, breeding and intelligence.

Turns out perfection makes John tense. It was over within two years.

Preparing to introduce Rodney to his family for the first time, John grins, relaxed. Rodney's got the kind of looks John wants. He's connected to everyone John cares about. Intelligence, of course, is covered.

He watches Rodney messily bolt down a McMuffin and McCafe Mocha while reaming out Bill Lee over the phone.

Breeding's overrated.

*

"Whah," Rodney mumbled as John got up to take a leak. When John returned, Rodney sat up, glaring.

"Had a weird dream," John offered. "Hey, remember the time you gave that dragon a powerbar?"

"Dragon," Rodney scoffed. "It was an herbivorous mammal! Basically, a skinny hippopotamus."

"A skinny _green_ hippopotamus."

"Yes."

"With wings."

"...Shut up and come back to bed."

John slipped into bed, sidling up to Rodney's warmth. "Remember how it sounded for a second like it said 'Thank you'?"

"I remember you'd taken a big sniff of those nitrous flowers."

"Oh yeah," John recalled happily. "Those were great."

*

"Where's the baby's seahorse toy?"

"It's in the washer," Rodney mumbles into the pillow. He was up with her all night. "Can't you give her something else for now?"

John looks at Paone's bright red face and flailing fists. She's so furious she's not even screaming anymore, her mouth wide with silent rage. His eyebrow still throbs from where she nailed him with the last toy she rejected.

"She really seems to want her favorite." John rubs his eyebrow. "And she inherited Ronon's arm."

Rodney sighs. "Just fish the seahorse out and give it to her wet. Call it verisimilitude."

*

Rodney dashes up the stairs, four steps ahead, practically stepping on the heels of their Roqian host, Prera.

"Slow down," John says, hooking his finger under the back of Rodney's tac vest.

"I swear I smell coffee," Rodney whispers.

"Here," says Prera, "we crush the baevo to make our baevim drink. Your trade metals will allow us to replace the pestles; you may have them if you find them useful."

Workers pour roasted beans into five enormous grinders. The pestle in each grinder is a ZPM, covered in coffee flecks.

John catches him as Rodney passes out in manly bliss.


End file.
